


you were just the right kind (more than just a dream)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Banter, HSM as an intricate ritual, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Tenderness, That was an Accident, banter-dirty talk ratio probably 70-30, donnie is here also, horny but also like. grossly soft, mark scheifele's single swear word, technically Skype sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23707219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: @jacobtrouba tagged you in their story.Missing you @mscheifThere are probably easier ways to get Mark's attention, but when has Jacob ever done anything the easy way?
Relationships: Mark Scheifele/Jacob Trouba
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71





	you were just the right kind (more than just a dream)

**Author's Note:**

> after i got over my initial state of incandescent rage over jacob's instagram story last night (himself vibing and singing to the hsm sing along and apparently missing scheif) i wrote this in like. a few hours.
> 
> their narrative... still unparalleled to this day. also i have never seen high school musical so everything about it in this is bull shit!
> 
> and. donnie. yah.
> 
> title from "out of my league" by fitz and the tantrums

_ Missing you @mscheif. _

Mark stares at Jacob’s Instagram story until the timer runs out. He plays it again. This time, he turns the volume up and hears Jacob singing along quietly to the High School Musical song on his TV.

He plays it one more time for good measure, just to be absolutely certain that he isn’t hallucinating or dreaming or—or something, then he gets up very carefully and walks to his bedroom. He locks the door and sits on the edge of his bed. His hands are sweating.

Jacob’s number is in his contacts, but he doesn’t bother scrolling to find it. He punches in the numbers from memory and lifts the phone to his ear.

Jacob doesn’t make him wait. “Hi,” he says, casual, as though everything is normal and Jacob didn’t just tag him in a video of him singing. Singing to  _ Mark. _

“What, exactly,” Mark says, “are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Jacob sounds genuinely confused.

Mark runs a hand through his hair and rolls his eyes to look up at the ceiling. “Your video? On Instagram?” He sighs. “You can just text me, you know.”

“You don’t like it when I sing for you?” Mark can just envision Jacob’s wide-eyed, fake innocent pout.

“I don’t. Not. Like it,” Mark says. He grimaces.  _ Smooth. _

“Smooth,” Jacob says, like he can hear Mark’s thoughts. “I just thought it was cute. Like, people thought it was cute last time I sang to you, so.” He pauses and there’s a rustling sound, like he’s making himself comfortable on his couch. “And I do miss you,” he adds, so soft that Mark almost misses it.

Mark is quiet for a moment. He could say something mean, could remind Jacob that leaving was his decision, could start a fight, if he wants, but. But. He’s twenty-seven now and he likes to think that he’s grown up at least a little bit. “I miss you, too,” he says instead. “On the ice, but off, too.”

He hadn’t realized, when he first got the news of Jacob’s trade and subsequent signing, just how much Jacob had become a part of his life over six years together in Winnipeg. No more waking up with Jacob drooling on his chest, no more Donnie chewing on his shoes, no more falling asleep on the couch with Jacob’s fingers in his hair and his voice humming quietly to lull Mark to sleep.

Mark still catches himself turning to make a joke on the bench only to find somebody else there. He can text Jacob after, sure, but it’s not the same. Not really.

Mark realizes that they’ve been quiet for too long and he scrambles to fill the silence. “I miss Donnie more, though, I mean he was obviously better to hang out with—”

“Hey!” Jacob says, his voice pitched high with mock outrage. He’s giggling, so his protests aren’t very convincing. “That’s not very nice. And anyway, who gave you blowjobs?”   


Oh.

_ Oh. _

So that’s what Jacob wants.

Mark swallows hard. It’s been months since they last saw each other; and even then, after being trounced so decisively by the Rangers, Mark wasn’t really in the mood. They got off, sure, but Mark mostly just wanted to hold Jacob again, just for a little while.

“Mark?” Jacob’s voice is tentative. “Sorry, if you don’t want—”

“I want,” Mark interrupts. “I just, uh. Didn’t expect it. But I want it.”

Jacob exhales heavily, relieved. “Good,” he says. “I can only jerk off to porn so much before I start to miss the real thing.”

Mark laughs, crawling up his bed to lean against the headboard. “I don’t think this counts as the real thing,” he points out.

“Hmm.” Jacob clicks his tongue. “It’s close enough.”   


“Is it?” Mark asks. He doesn’t mean to; it just sort of slips out.

Jacob is startled into silence. Then, “No,” he says. “Of course it isn’t. But it’s all we get right now. I mean, I’m not allowed to just drive up to Canada.” He sighs. “So, do you want to stop interrupting and let me get you off?”

Mark opens his mouth to speak again, but Jacob knows him well enough to know what he’s going to say.   


“Literally, shut up,” Jacob says. There’s no heat behind it. “Let me help you get yourself off, then, dumbass.”   


Mark grins. “Okay, okay,” he says. “Fine. Go ahead, blow my mind.”

Jacob takes a moment to consider how to start. “What are you wearing?” he asks.

Mark can’t help but laugh. “Really?” He doesn’t get a reply; Jacob’s silence is expectant. “Um, basketball shorts and a T-shirt,” he says. Pretty basic stuck at home comfy clothes.

“Are you wearing underwear?” Jacob asks next. His voice is lower, a little rougher now.

Mark bites his lip because he  _ isn’t. _ He doesn’t bother wearing underwear when he’s just in basketball shorts, a fact that Jacob knows and has taken advantage of for years. “No,” Mark says, laughter gone from his voice.

“Good.” There’s a rustle of fabric and a sigh from Jacob’s end. Mark knows he’s just taken off his shorts and is touching himself now. “Take your clothes off. Put the phone down, I’ll wait.”

Mark sets his phone down and stands up to strip quickly. He grabs his lube out of his nightstand before settling back into bed and picking up the phone. “It’s done,” he says. He’s already half-hard from anticipation. He rests a hand lightly on his hip, rubbing a fingertip over the skin there.

“Fuck, I wish I could see you,” Jacob says. He’s just giving voice to his desires, but it gives Mark an idea.   


“Do you have your laptop with you?” he asks.

“Yeah, why?” Jacob’s voice is uncertain.   


Mark’s lips quirk up. “Skype me.”

A minute later, Mark is looking at Jacob on his laptop screen. Jacob has positioned his laptop on the coffee table to give Mark a great view of his body. He’s naked and flushed down his pale chest. Mark wants to kiss him. On the mouth, yeah, but he wants to kiss a line down his chest, his belly, to his dick—

“Let me see,” Jacob says, almost whining, and he straightens as Mark arranges the sheets and his laptop to get a good angle.

“Be patient,” Mark grumbles. He leans back against the pillows, half-lying down with his thighs apart to give Jacob a good view while still being able to see the screen. “Better?” he asks.

“Much,” Jacob agrees. He drags an open hand down his torso, his tongue poking out like it does when he’s thinking. “I wanna suck you off,” he says without preamble.

Mark’s breathing hitches and he reaches for his dick.

“Don’t touch yourself yet,” Jacob says. He rubs the crease of his thigh and shivers, visible even through the webcam. “I want this to last.”

Mark hisses through his teeth, but he drops his hand to the sheets. “Jacob,” he says, a little desperate.

“Touch your thighs, use your fingernails,” Jacob says. “I want you to feel it, yeah.” He sucks in a breath as Mark does what he’s told.

His fingernails are short; he just clipped them a couple days ago. He still manages to dig them into the soft skin of his inner thighs, leaving faint red lines behind as he drags his fingers up and down. He groans, quiet, frustrated at having his hand so close to where he needs it. 

Jacob is just watching, dark-eyed, and that doesn’t seem fair.

Mark licks his lips, considering for a moment. “Your chest,” he says. “Touch your nipples for me.”

Jacob squeaks. Mark files that away to make fun of him later, but now is not the time. He watches Jacob drag his hands over his chest, rubbing his calloused fingertips over his nipples. He shudders, arching into it with a soft sound.

“Yeah,” Mark mumbles, mouth dry, “like that.”

“Wish it was you,” Jacob says. “Your mouth, um.” He slips a finger into his mouth and sucks on it for a second before returning it to his chest like he’s trying to imitate the way Mark used to use his tongue.

“Me, too,” Mark says, pinching his inner thigh. He bites his lip to muffle his gasp. “Jacob, can I—”   


“Yes.” Jacob almost stumbles over the word in his hurry to answer.

Mark sighs in relief when he finally wraps a hand around his dick. It’s a little too dry, but he ignores it for the time being and strokes himself slowly, his grip loose. His eyelids flutter shut for a second before he forces them open again.

Jacob’s hand is slick with lube as he jerks himself off, his eyes fixed on his own screen so he can watch Mark. The sound of his hand working is audible over the speakers of Mark’s laptop and it makes something shivery and hot settle low in Mark’s belly.

“Hey,” Jacob says, getting Mark to focus again, “do you still have, um. That thing I got you?”

Mark’s heart thumps hard, once, twice. “Yes,” he breathes.

“Use it,” Jacob says. “I want to watch.”

Mark lets go of his dick so he can reach into his nightstand. He pulls the dildo out of the drawer and drops it on the sheets beside him so Jacob can see. The toy is blue; Jacob gave it to him in October when the Jets played the Rangers, grinning when he said he wanted something with both their teams’ colours.

“Remember the night I gave it to you?” Jacob asks.

Mark’s breathing hitches and his fingers fumble with the lube. “Yeah,” he says. “When I fucked you.”

“Mm.” Jacob stretches one leg out and shifts his hips to get more comfortable. “You were so good for me. You didn’t come until I said so.”

Mark remembers that night very well. Jacob had laid him out on the bed and fucked him with the dildo until Mark was a shivering, shaking mess, then he’d opened himself up on his own fingers and ridden Mark into the mattress. He only took the dildo out after they both came. Mark still jerks off to the memory of that night sometimes.

“Can you do that for me again?” Jacob asks, bringing Mark out of the memory. “Don’t come until I tell you.”

“Okay,” Mark says, his voice cracking.   


“Good,” Jacob murmurs. “Start with one finger, okay?”   


Mark coats his fingers with lube; too much, probably, but he knows Jacob likes it to be wet and messy. He likes hearing it.

Mark puts a pillow under his hips to angle them up, giving Jacob a better view to watch Mark reach between his legs and circle a finger around his hole. Mark takes a deep breath, forcing his body to relax, and presses his finger inside.

“Fuck,” Jacob groans. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Mark flushes. He’s never done this—Skype sex—before. It’s a  _ lot, _ putting his body on display for Jacob, watching Jacob get himself off to Mark, seeing himself in the upper corner of the screen.

Jacob swipes his thumb under the head of his dick and lifts his hand back to his chest, touching himself almost absently as he watches Mark. “Another,” he says. “If you’re ready.”

Mark thinks he was ready  _ yesterday _ at this point. He shoves a second finger inside, too hard, but he can take it. He spreads them and moans at the stretch, letting his knees fall open wider to show off for Jacob.

Jacob makes a strangled noise and grips the base of his dick like he’s trying to keep himself from coming. “Mark,” he says helplessly. His hands twitch like he wants to reach through the screen to touch Mark for real. “Talk to me.”

Mark laughs weakly. “It’s good,” he says. “Feels good, but I miss your hands. You always know exactly how to touch me.” 

“Mmhm.” Jacob sounds a little smug.

“Shut up,” Mark says, sliding a third finger inside. “Don’t let that get to your head.”   


Jacob giggles. “Too late,” he says, and he’s smiling and red and so familiar that it makes Mark’s chest ache. “I’m the best, you can’t take it back.”   


“Maybe,” Mark allows. He curls his fingers and presses against his prostate. “Fuh—uhm.”

“Almost,” Jacob says, his face scrunching up with his grin. “C’mon, you know you can do it with me, baby.”

Mark rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna have to try harder,” he says. His voice is barely level anymore. It takes all his concentration to get out full sentences.

“That’s okay.” Jacob tugs slowly at his dick. “I know how to get you there.”

“We’ll see,” Mark mumbles, nudging his fingers deeper. He tips his head back, listening to Jacob’s voice, and imagines that Jacob is here with him, that Jacob is the one fucking him with his fingers, that Jacob will kiss him like he always does when it’s over.

“You ready?” Jacob asks.

Mark pulls his fingers out with a wince and takes a second to lie there, trying to collect himself before reaching for the dildo.   


Jacob straightens, eyes sharp, and watches Mark coat the toy with lube. It’s a little smaller than Jacob’s dick and curves just right to press against Mark’s prostate. Still, Mark hasn’t used it in a while and Jacob hasn’t fucked him in even longer, so it feels pretty big in his hands.

It feels even bigger when he presses it against his hole, but he forces himself to relax and eases it in slowly. He breathes in, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushes it in the whole way.

He can’t look at his screen for a moment as he adjusts to the stretch. He knows what Jacob’s face is going to look like, flushed and awed and sweaty, and he doesn’t think he can handle it just yet. He gives himself a little longer, drifting on Jacob’s soft voice as he murmurs encouragement, then he forces his eyes open.

“There he is,” Jacob says. “You good?”   


“‘m good,” Mark says. His voice is ragged, but he means it. He feels  _ good, _ the initial ache fading into pleasant fullness. He rocks his hips tentatively and the toy shifts inside him. “Yeah, I’m, umm, good.”

“Fuck,” Jacob whispers. His hand starts moving on his dick again, faster now as his eyes rove over his screen, over  _ Mark. _ “Let me see you fuck yourself with it, baby, like, mm, like I do it."

Mark grips the base of the toy and pulls it out almost all the way, then he thrusts it back inside  _ hard. _ He bites off a cry, his hips bucking up as the tip presses directly against his prostate. “Jake,” he moans. “Jake, I—”

“Yeah, like that,” Jacob says. His lips are bitten red like he’s been trying to keep quiet. Jacob has always been loud, but he likes to hear Mark; he’s muffling himself now so he can hear Mark better. “Keep going.”

It’s hard to keep the rhythm since Mark’s arm falters the longer he fucks himself with the toy, but he tries his best. It helps to have Jacob talking him through it, telling him to go faster, slower, harder, and warning him not to come yet.

It gets harder to follow that last instruction the longer it goes on. Mark isn’t even touching his dick, too busy holding the sheets with his free hand, but the hot pressure of his orgasm is building at the base of his spine anyway. He’s come on Jacob’s dick before, though he’s not sure if he can get there with the toy.

Jacob doesn’t let him down, though. He’s getting close, too, the rhythm of his hand starting to stutter and speed up as he chases his release, and he doesn’t leave Mark behind. “Come on, baby,” he says, panting, “come for me, do it—” His voice breaks into a groan as he comes, spilling over his hand and belly.

Mark gets his hand around his dick and clenches around the toy. “Oh,” he gasps, “Jake,  _ Jacob, _ fuh-uck.” He whines through his teeth as he comes, fucking himself through it with the toy until it’s too much and he has to take it out.

He drops the toy onto the floor to land on his pile of clothes. He’ll deal with that later. He flops back against his sheets to catch his breath and turns his head to look at his laptop to see Jacob in a similarly dazed state.

“One second,” Mark says. He rolls out of bed on shaky legs and staggers to the ensuite to wipe himself clean of come and lube, then climbs back into bed.

Jacob glances up when he’s back and holds up his phone. “Answer my call,” he says.   


Mark’s phone buzzes from somewhere in the sheets. It takes four rings for Mark to find it and answer.

“Hey,” Jacob says in his ear. The Jacob on his laptop screen echoes him a half-second later. Jacob wiggles his fingers at Mark in a goofy little wave before ending the call. “I just need to, like, wash my hands and I can’t carry my computer around.”

“Mmhm,” Mark says. He burrows deeper into his blankets and closes his eyes, listening to Jacob get up and wander around his home.

He hears the sound of rushing water and Jacob hums tunelessly to himself. Mark doesn’t know if Jacob even knows he’s doing it; probably not.

“Hello!” Jacob says suddenly. His voice is bright and higher than usual, and Mark immediately recognizes his Donnie Voice. “Hi, buddy! Good boy.” There’s a pause while Jacob presumably pets Donnie. “Do you want to say hi to Mark? Mark, say hi to Donnie.”   


“Hi, Donnie,” Mark says, grinning at the snuffly sounds of Donnie licking and sniffing Jacob’s phone. “Who’s a good boy? You are,  _ yes, _ you are.'

Donnie whines and Jacob makes a soft, sad sound. “He’s not here, Donnie,” Jacob says quietly. “I know.” He raises his voice a bit and Mark realizes that he wasn’t meant to hear that. “He misses you, too."

“He’s a smart dog,” Mark says. “He remembers who gave him the most treats.”   


“Yeah,” Jacob grumbles, “you bribed my dog.” There’s a rustle as Jacob gets into bed.

They’re both quiet for a minute. Mark listens to Jacob’s quiet breathing.

“Stay on the line until I fall asleep?” Jacob asks. His voice is small.

Mark realizes how lonely he must be, down in Florida with only his dog for company. “Of course,” he says gently. He pulls a pillow into his arms. It’s a poor substitute, but it’s the best he can do.

“Thank you.” Jacob sighs. “You know, as much as I miss your dick, I think I miss your cuddles even more.”

Mark laughs. “Yeah,” he says. “Whenever we get the chance, come over and we can nap all day. I’ll let you be the little spoon.”   


“‘Let’ me, huh?” Jacob snorts. “As if you’d have it any other way.”   


“As if you don’t love it,” Mark fires back.

“Hmm.” Jacob pauses. “Maybe so.”

They laugh again, softer now, and a comfortable silence falls between them as sleepiness starts to take over.

“Sing me to sleep?” Jacob asks. His voice is hazy; he must be half-asleep already.

“Okay,” Mark says. He doesn’t even bother pretending to argue about it, not now with Jacob soft and sleepy at the other end of the line. “Anything specific you want?”   


“Mm. Our song. Please.”

Mark doesn’t have to ask what he means. He doesn’t know all the words off the top of his head, but he doubts that Jacob is awake enough to care.

He sings softly, his voice wavering a bit as he tries to keep himself from getting too loud, and he gets through most of the song before Jacob joins him for the last line he knows.

_ “Feels so right to be here with you.” _

It does.

**Author's Note:**

> (my 40k wip staring at me rn like. you clown. you fool. you idiot.)
> 
> i miss yew jacob but thanks for the donnie content that is the only thing keeping me going rn!!!
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/symphony7inAmaj)


End file.
